


Menace

by Esselle



Series: Speed Demons [5]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Car Racing, Backstory, Bar Room Brawl, Pre-Relationship, Street Racing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-21 23:32:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10685166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esselle/pseuds/Esselle
Summary: 'Whoever this newcomer is, he's small and wiry, with brown hair spiked high enough to make him look a little taller than he actually is. He looks up at Asahi, and his eyes are sparkling. He looks utterly thrilled to find himself involved in this altercation.For a brief moment, it flares—that rose-tinted nostalgia, the thrill of danger.Then someone yells, "FIIIIGHT!", and the brawl breaks out.'--Asahi meets someone new during a good old Saturday night bar fight.





	Menace

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is set after Jump Start, but before the main story!

On a scale of one to ten, one being the _least_ worst, and ten being the absolute most terrible, a rowdy bar in the rougher part of town on a Saturday night is probably on the higher end of Asahi's discomfort spectrum.

He knows Daichi and Suga love this place, though, because it reminds them a little bit of the old days, the scent of smoke and danger always lingering in the air, the possibility of fight or flight always right around the corner. Asahi doesn't miss those days nearly as much, and he knows the two of them are more or less happy in the relative stability they have now, but he does understand the notion of rose-tinted glasses born from nostalgia.

Asahi likes the quiet, though. That's why he watches from a booth in the corner of the room, nursing a soda and snacking on admittedly delicious chicken wings, while Daichi and Suga jostle for elbow room at the crowded bar. They're both already tipsy, and are making a game out of swatting each other's asses and then acting like one of the other rowdy bar patrons around them is the overly friendly culprit.

"I have a question," a voice to his right says, and he looks over at Kageyama, who is frowning at the bar over his beer.

Kageyama is also not a fan of the whole bar scene, as far as Asahi can tell. He regularly has trouble trying to make out what Kageyama is thinking, though; unlike Suga, who always _knows,_ or Daichi, who Kageyama just informs willingly. Asahi never knows, and he's too nervous to just ask, so he has to guess.

This time, however, it seems like Kageyama is initiating things, so Asahi says, "Yeah?"

"Do you sit over here because they're so embarrassing?" Kageyama asks, tipping his bottle in their friends' direction.

Asahi looks over, just in time to witness Suga haul off and let fly with a devastating smack of his palm, except he _misses entirely,_ hitting the backside of the guy standing next to Daichi in his drunken state. Asahi and Kageyama both cringe visibly.

"Yes," Asahi says, "yes, I do."

"They did say it was fine if you didn't want to come, though," Kageyama points out.

"I know," Asahi admits, "but, sometimes I like to come along just to make sure—uh oh…"

He starts to stand, as he watches Suga trying to apologize to the man he just accidentally and violently spanked. Asahi can already tell from the gleam in Daichi's eye and the hard edge around Suga's mouth that the man may have had a few choice words of his own to say.

"Sometimes," he says quickly to Kageyama, "I like to come just to make sure they've got a fast out when they need one."

Asahi hates confrontation more than anything. But he'll be damned if he doesn't back his best friends up in a fight.

By the time he gets there, Daichi is already using The Smile. Not a good sign. People are starting to watch them, but Asahi pushes his way through the crowd, muscling his way through as gently as possible. He's taller than most, so it's not hard. Behind him, he hears an angry curse followed by a distracted "Sorry," that sounds like Kageyama has squashed someone's foot and doesn't particularly care. Asahi is grateful to him for following.

"Hey, Daichi," Asahi says, as congenially as possible. "How are you guys doing?"

"Hey, Asahi!" Daichi says, about three times as loud as is necessary. "We're good, we're good! Some people just don't know how to accept apologies, that's all!"

"I don't want an apology," the man says, "I want my wallet back."

"And we already told you," Suga says cheerfully, "that it's not our problem you forgot to bring it and want us to pay your tab." He jerks his head in Daichi's direction. "I only buy him drinks, asshole."

Asahi sighs. Here they go.

"What'd you call me?" the guy asks. "What'd you just say?"

"What?" Suga asks lightly, with the biggest shit eating grin on his face Asahi has seen to date. "I didn't—did you guys hear me say anything?"

"You called him an asshole," Kageyama says, helpfully. Suga blinks at him and then bursts out laughing.

"You're right, I did!"

"Okay!" Asahi says quickly. "I think maybe it's time we—"

"Hold on a second, headband," the guy says, and Asahi realizes he is being addressed. Awkwardly, he touches the band holding his long hair back, and the guy nods. "Yeah, you. None of you are goin' anywhere until you gimme back what you stole."

"Listen," Asahi says, "they didn't steal anything. We're sorry for the other… thing, but—"

It is at this moment that the night turns, as they say, wild. Asahi watches, eyes widening, as the guy grabs a nearby bottle and then smashes it against the bar top, shattering the bottom into messy, jagged edges.

"Ah," Asahi says, "that's an escalation."

"Listen up, you little shits," the guy says, and Daichi and Suga look ready to fight, and Asahi is trying to figure out whether to just start throwing punches or get Kageyama out of the brawl zone first, "I don't like getting the cops involved in my affairs. So either you can hand it over, or I'll—"

That's where he cuts off—with a startled, grunted _"OOF—",_ eyes going bug wide in his face as he hunches over and drops the bottle, which shatters all over the floor.

Everyone stares at him, confused, but Asahi is staring at the person _behind_ him, because that person has just headbutted their angry accuser right in the kidneys.

Whoever this newcomer is, he's small and wiry, with brown hair spiked high enough to make him look a little taller than he actually is. He looks up at Asahi, and his eyes are sparkling. He seems utterly thrilled to find himself involved in this altercation.

For a brief moment, it flares, for Asahi—that rose-tinted nostalgia, the thrill of danger.

Then someone yells, "FIIIIGHT!", and the brawl breaks out.

Asahi ducks a swinging fist just in time, coming face to face with Daichi, who shouts, "Time to go!" The owner is already yelling down his phone to the police. He spots Suga, who is giggling maniacally like the orchestrator of doom that he is, and points.

"HEY, YOU!"

Suga stops laughing. "Okay, yes, time to go."

A hand grabs Asahi's wrist and he whirls in panic, before realizing, it's the guy with the spiky hair.

"Out back!" he shouts over the noise. "Come on!"

Asahi has no idea who this guy is, but he follows him without a second thought.

A glance over his shoulder reveals Daichi and Suga are at least following—also, Kageyama, who literally flings some hapless drunk clean out of his path in his hurry to keep up. He looks like he actually may be trying not to grin, judging from the way his lips are moving. He does that sometimes.

They bang out the back door and into an alley.

"Where are you parked?" asks the guy.

"Uh…" Asahi spins in place, getting his bearings. "It's this way—"

The wail of police sirens in the night cuts him off and they all jump to action, sprinting away from the building.

"Go, go, go!"

They have to scale a fence. The spiky haired kid is like a little gust of wind, scrambling up it in two seconds flat and swinging his body over onto the other side before Asahi is even halfway up it. Suga can't stop laughing and almost falls trying to climb back down the other side—Daichi turns just in time to grab him around the waist. Kageyama refuses to just dump his beer and has to climb the fence one-handed, and it's a wonder he makes it over before the cops come flying down the road, screeching to a halt in front of the bar.

But they're already gone.

"It's that—one—" Asahi pants, pointing up ahead. They parked on a quiet side road a few blocks from the bar.

"Shut up," the newcomer says, and Asahi looks at him in surprise. "That's a fucking 1971 GSX! That's yours?"

"Uh, yeah," Asahi says, rubbing the back of his neck.

"No way. No fucking way, dude," the guy is still rambling, as they all pile in. Asahi isn't exactly sure why he's getting into the car, too, much less the front seat, as Suga, Daichi, and Kageyama pile into the back, Kageyama squashed between them.

"Did you punch anyone, Tobio?" Suga asks.

"No," Kageyama says. "Should I have?"

"There's always next time," Daichi says wisely, slinging an arm over his shoulders. Suga ruffles his hair.

"The two of you are turning him into a delinquent," Asahi admonishes them, as he starts the car. The rumble of the engine earns him a low whistle from his front seat passenger.

"I'm already a delinquent," Kageyama protests. "I fix cars for an illegal street racing organization."

A head of spiked hair whips around, first staring at Kageyama, then at Asahi. "You race? Here?"

Asahi shrugs, hunching over the wheel at the sudden earnest attention he's receiving. "Yeah—well, I mean, I guess? Sometimes."

"Asahi, come on!" Suga says. "He races more than _sometimes,_ and he's a menace behind the wheel."

"I'm not a menace," Asahi says. "I always follow safe driving practices."

"Do you race this car?" their new acquaintance demands and Asahi laughs.

"No, no… we have a lot of cars back at the shop, but this one's just… it's not really racing material."

"Not really racing—!" the guy slaps the dashboard so hard Asahi jumps. "Asahi, right? This is totally racing material. This could be _the_ racing material!"

"No, it's an old model, I haven't kept up with it as well as I should—"

"Because you won't let us," Daichi calls from the backseat, while Kageyama nods.

"Could I have a look?" the guy presses, insistent, and Asahi stares at him briefly, before turning his eyes back to the road.

"Wh-why do you want to have a look?" he asks.

"Because I _bet_ I can convince you to race it," comes the confident reply.

Suga whistles from the backseat. And then says, "Wait, who are you?" He loudly whispers to Kageyama and Daichi, "Has he been here this whole time?"

"I'm Noya," says the man with the sparks in his eyes. 

Asahi chews on his bottom lip. It’s not that he _doesn't_ want to race this car, it's just that, as attached to it as he is, he doesn't know if he could handle something happening to it—or worse, finding out this car, of all the ones he's raced, can't make the cut. 

"Why do you think that asshole thought we stole his wallet, anyway?" Suga asks Daichi in the backseat.

"He’ll find it where it’s supposed to be, now," Noya tells them. "I figured he was going to be having a way worse night than I am, so I put it back." 

Asahi's mouth falls open. "You..."

Noya throws back his head and laughs. "Yeah... he'd been a dick all night, but even I felt bad for him after that shot to the ribs."

Asahi can’t help it. He laughs, too. "Noya... if you want to take a look at the car, then... anytime." 

"Yeah?" Noya asks him excitedly. When Asahi nods, Noya grins at him. "Then say the word, Asahi, and I'll fix this baby up like new."

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> [I'm [@esselley](http://esselley.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr, [@Esselle_hq](https://twitter.com/Esselle_hq) on Twitter]


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